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So many nights I watched his dad instead. Nothing hot, except for the way he makes walking through a room look hot, but those are my little secrets.<br /> I settle in at the perfect angle where I can see Jayce, and get comfortable enough to take care of myself. I swear he keeps looking at my window. Can he see me?<br /> Swallowing hard, I slide my hand into the waistband of my shorts. My fingers brush over my curls. This is probably illegal. I&#039;ll blame it on emotional scarring from Brett denying me se.x while he was boning someone else.<br /> Hand, tongue, shaft...so many orgasms...I stir myself into a frenzy. Another moan escapes my lips, my eyes fall shut, and I drop my head back as I draw myself closer.<br /> Light streams into my consciousness. Is it the start of my climax? I&#039;m so close. It&#039;s not my climax though. What&#039;s happening?<br /> I blink hard against the brightness coming from the hallway as I take in my dad&#039;s voice, &quot;Madi, you okay?&quot;<br /> ————————<br /> Madison<br /> Crossingthemountainridge into Eggplant Canyon, I can&#039;t believe I&#039;m moving back to my dad&#039;s house on the eve of my first job. But when a last-minute position to teach kindergarten was offered, I spent the morning packing my tiny apartment, made the six-hour drive, and now I&#039;m ready to tuck myself into bed.<br /> I want to be well-rested for the mandatory district training day tomorrow.<br /> The house is dark as I make the familiar turn into the driveway. My dad texted to let me know that he got called into the hospital. Nothing new there.<br /> Carrying a couple suitcases with my essentials inside, I don&#039;t bother to call my boyfriend, who was my next-door neighbor growing up. I haven&#039;t been able to get hold of him for the last few days, but I chalked it up to him being busy with his med school application. The disconnect is symbolic of how well our long-distance relationship has worked out while we attended different universities. Dating was so much easier when we just walked across the grass to see each other.<br /> If he listened to the series of four voice messages I left, he would know that I had a sudden change of plans. It&#039;s not that I expected him to drop everything and come back to see me since he&#039;s only an hour away, I just wanted to share my excitement.<br /> As I open the curtains in my bedroom to enjoy the moonlight over the mountains, I&#039;m certain he didn&#039;t listen.<br /> Otherwise, he would have at least had the decency to close his blinds...I hope.<br /> My phone falls from my hand. I don&#039;t bother to pick it up.<br /> My heart breaks as everything I thought I knew about the cute, ambitious, and respectful boy next door, who I&#039;ve saved my first time for, bangs some chick.<br /> He was the one to say we shouldn&#039;t have intercourse until we&#039;re married. That&#039;s not something you just forget. Is it something against me personally? We were supposed to have a future. How long has this been going on?<br /> Dreams shatter far easier than they&#039;re built. I can&#039;t tear my eyes off the undressed tangle of their bodies. How long have I been a fool?<br /> Brett, my suddenly ex-boyfriend, hadn&#039;t wanted to risk either of our careers with an unplanned pregnancy.<br /> My dad had talked to him about the rigors of med school and how it was really hard to raise a child while going through it. Waiting made sense. Watch out for our futures. A little ridiculous since all I wanted to do was be a mom, but my dad insisted I plan on a career since relationships can go wrong.<br /> Like right now.<br /> My heart splits in two.<br /> The fatigue from my long day channels into anger.<br /> All of my pent-up sexual frustration has been for naught. What&#039;s his endgame? I would have screwed him. I&#039;d begged actually. Not a proud moment, but I had. And he&#039;d had the nerve to tell me I should be able to control my urges better.<br /> I&#039;d thought I was an over-sexed freak for all of my naughty thoughts he refused to entertain. And for the ones he didn&#039;t know about, like the ones that involved his dad.<br /> It looks like we both had secrets, but mine didn&#039;t hurt anyone.<br /> I force myself to look away. This is over. And I&#039;m going to make sure he doesn&#039;t have any wiggle room to sweet talk his way out of it.<br /> I rush downstairs and out of my house, across the grass to his front door, and don&#039;t bother knocking.<br /> &quot;Madison?&quot; Brett&#039;s father, Jayce, calls out as I storm past his office, which is just off the entry. I don&#039;t have to look to know that he&#039;s at his desk, he almost always is. Concern has replaced the swoon-worthiness of the wealthy CEO&#039;s usual deep voice. I don&#039;t care. If he, in any way, taught his son to be a cheater, he&#039;s as despicable as his spawn.<br /> As I stride through their living room, I question how I was able to forget his dad could be home. Apparently, I&#039;m drunk on the toxic cocktail of exhaustion, anger, and tunnel vision, and it&#039;s served with a blanket of shame. I never forget about his dad—the lingering glances I sometimes catch him sneaking, the tension in his jaw every time I gave Brett a peck on the cheek, or my imaginary belief that he made himself scarce when I was around because he secretly wanted me too—which are all more reasons I thought something was wrong with me.<br /> I would never cheat on my boyfriend. Especially not with his dad.<br /> But if anyone had read my mind... Every time Jayce called me Madison, never the nickname Madi that everyone else used, it made me feel so hot, so desirable. Not the girl-next-door his son dated, but the woman...never mind. It&#039;s my given name, not a seduction. More proof that I&#039;m not wired quite right.<br /> I quicken my pace to get up the stairs when I hear Jayce behind me.<br /> &quot;Wait...I thought you two broke up.&quot; So he does know what Brett&#039;s doing.<br /> &quot;We are now.&quot; My blanket of shame is starting to suffocate me. It&#039;s hard enough to find out my boyfriend is a loser, much less reveal it in front of my secret crush. But my freight train of anger is in motion.<br /> Throwing Brett&#039;s bedroom door open, I want to vomit. Seeing him with another woman from my window was one thing, but up close...it&#039;s far too real. What had I planned on doing? Pieces of thoughts form a maelstrom of hurt and chaos in my mind.<br /> Brett and his buddy realize I&#039;m in the room. They break their peck to look at me. The other part of them stays together. Gag. I need a plan, and fast. I&#039;ve done, or not done, everything Brett asked. Look where that got me. I won&#039;t be the victim.<br /> Think. Think. Think.<br /> &quot;Madi?&quot; Brett lifts up. My urge to vomit heightens.<br /> The thinking train derails. I rush forward, shrugging my blanket of shame. I&#039;m not the one at fault. There are a million things I want to say to him but words fail me as I rear my fist back.<br /> When I thrust it forward, a primal scream erupts from me, sparing me from having to hear his nose break. Wow! That felt good. Like I&#039;m doing all women a favor by standing up for myself.<br /> Brett falls onto the girl, making a horrible sound as he grips his face and rolls off. Thankfully the sheet spares me the details that are no longer my business.<br /> He doesn&#039;t deserve a chance to explain.<br /> Before anyone can say anything coherent, I spin around and rush out of the room as quickly as I entered, not bothering to close the door.<br /> Turning the corner, tears blur my vision. I plow into Jayce. His hard body becomes a wall supporting me. His hands circle my waist and for way longer than a split second, I hope Brett comes out of his room and catches his father holding me.<br /> Maybe there is something wrong with me. I&#039;m not usually the type of person to want revenge.<br /> I shift my eyes to the stairwell past Jayce. &quot;Umm, sorry, I need to go.&quot;<br /> His grip tightens.<br /> &quot;I&#039;ve got you.&quot; His tone has never been so low and possessive. &quot;Let&#039;s go downstairs.&quot;<br /> &quot;I&#039;m fine.&quot; I try to move but not enough to convince him that&#039;s what I want. I give in to his grip, his protection. My se.x tingles. My entire body tingles. And when he pulls me into his chest, his arms firm around my back, and if I can believe myself, his lips in my hair, and something very hard against my belly. For the first time ever, I question that being wired wrong might not be such a bad thing.<br /> &quot;You deserve to be treated better than that.&quot; His words. His tone. His belief in me. They&#039;re turning me to mush. They&#039;re giving me hope for something I know better than to believe in.<br /> &quot;A real man would treat me better.&quot; It&#039;s supposed to be a jab at his son, his child, but as I angle my head up and get lost in Jayce&#039;s possessive gaze, I can&#039;t be sure of my intent. My momentary bravado lures me into the forbidden.<br /> The sincerity in his gaze penetrates me. It&#039;s how a man should look at a woman he loves. Not that I&#039;ve experienced it until this moment. But it&#039;s clear. It has me questioning everything.<br /> It&#039;s too much. I&#039;m hurt. I&#039;m mad. I&#039;m making things up.<br /> Before I embarrass myself, I pull away from his comfort and warmth. I drift my hands down both handrails, and stride to the front door. The cold metal of the handle is my ticket to freedom, but movement in Jayce&#039;s office catches my attention.<br /> Is someone else here? I have the door in motion as I turn my face to see.<br /> The handsome stranger is chiseled in all of the right ways. Enough to make me misstep. To crack the door into the side of my head.<br /> &quot;Oomph.&quot; I stumble back, unsure if I&#039;ve lost balance from the collision or if the ravenous look in his eyes, which I certainly made up, made my legs go weak.<br /> He circles the desk. The look intensifies. I can&#039;t let him touch me. I still can&#039;t breathe from Jayce&#039;s contact. Why am I thinking he would do that? I must have hit my head harder than I thought.<br /> Steadying myself, I run out of the Hampton household as fast as possible.<br /> That should be it. Brett and I are done. I&#039;m not going to pretend that Mister Hampton or his friend lust after me. I&#039;m going to give myself a minute for an impromptu pity party then do my best to get some sleep before the school district&#039;s training day for new hires.<br /> But this night can&#039;t go wrong enough.<br /> When I get home, my curtains are still open. My house still faces the Hampton&#039;s house, because despite it feeling like the entire world shifted on its axis and everything tilted out of whack, nothing has changed.<br /> I&#039;m still wildly turned on by Brett&#039;s dad. And his friend. It&#039;s not just in the lingering sensation of his fingers wrapped around my waist like he didn&#039;t want to let go, or the incredible hardness of his body as he held me tightly. Or the way both of them looked at me like I was theirs.<br /> I&#039;m standing at my floor-to-ceiling window, my hands gripped on the curtains on either side ready to pull them closed, and once again, I can&#039;t move.<br /> Jayce&#039;s silhouette is in his window, one that I know to be their entertainment room. He&#039;s backlit by a lamp. His hands are braced just above shoulder height on either side of the window. If I can trust my eyes, he&#039;s staring at me.<br /> Or more accurately, he&#039;s staring at my window, because up until a split second ago, I wasn&#039;t in it.<br /> But now that I am, he&#039;s not moving, so I guess that makes my first assumption correct...he&#039;s staring at me.<br /> I like it.<br /> And when his friend walks up behind him, I like it even more.<br /> -<br /> Mydad and I were hanging out but he had somewhere to go. I suppose that was his way of avoiding saying he had something to do at the hospital. Why bother hiding it?<br /> It&#039;s fine. I&#039;m exhausted, so I retreat to my bedroom.<br /> For the last three days, I&#039;ve been swamped with district training and revamping my lesson plans.<br /> It&#039;s been a wild, exhausting ride. The training alone would have been enough since I had to switch gears from first grade to kindergarten to take this position, which meant revamping my lesson plans. But I&#039;d also taken on the after-school program, which meant extra long days and an entire other lesson plan.<br /> All of the hecticness aside, I&#039;m glad I made a last-minute change to accept the teaching position close to where I grew up. Once I settle into a routine, I ought to be able to see old friends. Or am I putting it off because I&#039;m a chicken?<br /> My former best friend, Calli, is here and I really want to make amends. I need to apologize for dismissing her concerns years before and being a pretty horrific best friend.<br /> What if her number changed? I&#039;ll just think she&#039;s ghosting me. Which I would deserve. Plus, I must have left my phone downstairs. I&#039;ll text her tomorrow. Bawk<br /> Slipping my silky robe over my pajama set, a tank top and short shorts, I stare at my closed curtains. I could easily say that I&#039;ve been too busy to bother opening them...for three days.<br /> The truth is that I&#039;m worried what I&#039;ll see if I do. Bawk. Bawk.<br /> It&#039;s not Brett&#039;s window that worries me anymore. He left town the day after someone broke his nose. Word travels fast in a small town, but thankfully the detail about me is missing.<br /> Each night when I&#039;ve crawled into bed, I&#039;ve stared at the curtains, pretending that if I open them Jayce will still be in his window, hands braced on the edges, waiting on me. Wanting to make sure I&#039;m okay. Desperate to show me how a man should treat a woman.<br /> This is when his friend usually enters the fantasy, and I let both men tend to the needs I&#039;ve been denied.<br /> I&#039;ve gone off the deep end.<br /> I thought it was a twisted rebound fantasy...wanting my ex&#039;s dad and his friend. The truth is that I&#039;ve always wanted Jayce. I kept trying to force the desire into an inaccessible part of my brain since I was dating his son.<br /> Now that I&#039;m single, I&#039;d hoped to get Jayce and his friend out of my system by letting my fantasies run wild while I pleasured myself.<br /> That took things the wrong direction. Thoughts of them morphed into what I can only describe as an obsession. It&#039;s clouding my ability to think, even when I&#039;m at work.<br /> And that&#039;s too much. I can&#039;t lose this job.<br /> I moved back home not only because my tough-love dad developed a soft spot and let me stay for free, but I want to work on our relationship. I&#039;d felt alone when I was away at school. Now that I&#039;m an adult with a job, I think he&#039;ll be able to relate to me more—thus the added reason not to lose it. While I was growing up, he&#039;d been so busy with patients and creating new programs at the hospital that I hardly knew him.<br /> Which is why when he got a text and said he needed to leave tonight, I wasn&#039;t surprised.<br /> I laugh out loud. Considering how many hours of the day I&#039;m putting into my job, the apple didn&#039;t fall far from the tree. At least we spend time together each evening since he agreed he could do better.<br /> It&#039;s weird recognizing that my dad&#039;s obsession with work is rooted in wanting to bring better healthcare to our little neck of the woods. Too bad it came with the sacrifice of not being around much when I was little. Not so different than my love of kids and wanting to give them the best start possible.<br /> My thoughts deviate back to Jayce. This can&#039;t be healthy. Perhaps Brett was right, my interest in intercourse is—No. No more of that thinking. He lied to me. He cheated on me. He made me feel dirty for wanting intercourse.<br /> But wanting intercourse with his dad...that has to qualify as dirty.<br /> Perhaps if I open my curtains, I&#039;ll find out just how dirty he is.<br /> I rub my hands over my face. No. I&#039;ll pull the curtains back so I can accept that he doesn&#039;t brood in his window each night. My fantasy is clearly out of control. I need to find someone else to fantasize about.<br /> I tamp down the idea of his friend. Too awkward. Too old. Actually, the friend is younger. And I&#039;m back down one of my lust spirals.<br /> Pushing both panels back a few inches, my breath hitches when the light is on in the Hampton&#039;s game room.<br /> Curling my fingers around the edges of my curtains, I tuck the fabric to my chest. The flutters and tingles rushing through me are wrong.<br /> I force my gaze to Brett&#039;s window. Nothing. No light. No Brett. No feelings. Yay? Shouldn&#039;t I feel something?<br /> Movement pulls my attention back to the illuminated window. Jayce enters the room.<br /> My skin tickles every time he looks my way. I&#039;m sure it&#039;s all in my head. With my lights off, he can&#039;t see me anyway.<br /> Angling one thigh into the other, I shift my hips to ease the mounting tension. I&#039;ll have to throw myself back into the dating scene. Find a guy who doesn&#039;t criticize me for wanting to have intercourse. Should I list on my profile that I&#039;m looking for real men? I snicker at my misstep...looking for a real man. Maybe someone older?<br /> My heartbeat quickens as I consider what it would be like to have more than one. Is that a deviant thought? Maybe if Brett hadn&#039;t deprived me, I wouldn&#039;t be so wound up.<br /> Drawing the curtains to have a couple feet of opening, I sit on the plush chaise that faces the window from only a few feet away. Growing up, I used it for relaxing and reading, staring out at the mountains, and yes, staring at Brett. He never did the same. And when he caught me in my window one night, he texted to tell me it wasn&#039;t polite to watch people through their windows.<br /> It was one of many desires I had that he didn&#039;t share. He&#039;d made me feel naughty for the things I wanted.<br /> But with my lights off, no one in their house can see into my room. I know from leaving my stuffed animals on the chaise then trying to see them from Brett&#039;s window. He may not have wanted to watch, but that didn&#039;t stop me. So many nights I&#039;d willed my dirty thoughts would go away. So many nights they didn&#039;t.<br /> So many nights I watched his dad instead. Nothing hot, except for the way he makes walking through a room look hot, but those are my little secrets.<br /> I settle in at the perfect angle where I can see Jayce, and get comfortable enough to take care of myself. I swear he keeps looking at my window. Can he see me?<br /> Nearly breathless, I monitor his glances. Four more pauses on my window give no indication he can see in. But he&#039;s looking. I like that.<br /> Swallowing hard, I slide my hand into the waistband of my shorts. My fingers brush over my curls. This is probably illegal. I&#039;ll blame it on emotional scarring from Brett denying me se.x while he was boning someone else.<br /> Lazily dragging my finger through my juices, I let out a sigh. I&#039;m so wet it&#039;s ridiculous. Not sure my thing for older guys would translate well into real-life dating, but it&#039;s good fantasy fodder.<br /> You deserve to be treated better than that. Jayce&#039;s words carry so loudly through my mind that I look around my room. Not here. He&#039;s still safely two panes of glass and lawns away.<br /> I relax into the seat. Jayce moves back and forth across the room, around the pool table, occasionally stepping out of sight, but never for long.<br /> Succumbing to my imagination, I pretend I&#039;m on the pool table. He&#039;s circling me. Studying me the way I&#039;ve watched him study the angle for a pool shot.<br /> Jayce&#039;s gaze lands on my window, a little longer this time. My breath catches in my throat. I don&#039;t breathe again until he looks away. If he could see, there&#039;s no way he would have looked away. Right?<br /> A hint of guilt niggles in my mind...unless he wishes his son&#039;s ex-girlfriend would get control of herself, and quit being a lewd little voyeur. Or is it a naughty exhibitionist? Is it possible to be both? It seems wrong that I think of myself as naughty and lewd, but that turns me on too.<br /> He studies the table, rakes a hand through his hair, and leans over. I double-down circling my cherry. How good would his tongue feel?<br /> I moan and sink my fingers inside of me. Forget his tongue. What would his shaft feel like? Instead of telling me he wants to wait until we&#039;re married, he&#039;d show me how a real man pleases a woman.<br /> Hand, tongue, shaft...so many orgasms...I stir myself into a frenzy. Another moan escapes my lips, my eyes fall shut, and I drop my head back as I draw myself closer.<br /> Light streams into my consciousness. Is it the start of my climax? I&#039;m so close. It&#039;s not my climax though. What&#039;s happening?<br /> I blink hard against the brightness coming from the hallway as I take in my dad&#039;s voice, &quot;Madi, you okay?&quot;<br /> He was supposed to leave already.<br /> I scramble to pull my robe over myself, get my hand out of my shorts, and rectify my spread-eagle position.<br /> &quot;I&#039;m fine,&quot; I blurt. Please don&#039;t let him realize what I&#039;m doing. He can&#039;t see Jayce&#039;s window from where my door is. Tempering my voice with annoyance, I shift so I&#039;m facing over the back of the chaise and continue, &quot;I was looking at the stars, relaxing.&quot;<br /> Feigning a glance outside, my sights catch on Jayce standing squarely in his window. This can&#039;t be happening.<br /> &quot;Hmm, didn&#039;t know you liked to do that.&quot; My dad steps into my room, extending his hand and my phone. &quot;You left this downstairs.&quot;<br /> No. No. No. I can&#039;t let him come over.<br /> &quot;Set it on my dresser.&quot; I point to the other side of the door. &quot;Thanks, Dad. Catch you in the morning.&quot;<br /> He follows my cue—problem one solved.<br /> &quot;You know. It&#039;s nice having you home and getting to spend quality time with you. I love you, Madi.&quot;<br /> &quot;Love you too, Dad.&quot; I don&#039;t have time for a trip down memory lane or correcting him that I don&#039;t want to use that nickname anymore. And I don&#039;t dare look out the window.<br /> &quot;You worked hard this week. You deserve some R and R. I&#039;m proud of you.&quot;<br /> Maybe not if you knew what you just interrupted. My stomach is in knots waiting as he steps out and closes the door. Darkness cloaks my room once again.<br /> A second passes before I turn to the window. Nothing could prepare me for what I see. Jayce is waiting for me. Exactly the way I imagined in my fantasies—his hands braced on either side of the window.<br /> I draw a slow breath. He must have seen me. He can&#039;t see me now. What do I do?<br /> Do I want to find out how a real man treats a woman?

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